


VivacityxInertia

by apotts



Category: South Park
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:57:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6240262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apotts/pseuds/apotts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ike & Firkle spin-off from Caprice. One wants to die. One wants to live. What happens when the moon falls in love with the sun?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lipslide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mura_saki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mura_saki/gifts).



> So this is the first chapter of my IkexFirkle spin-off. It's a companion piece to my other story Caprice, but it will stand on it's own, so reading Caprice isn't a prerequisite, however this story follows the same timeline and I'd like to think it might be more enjoyable to read them together.
> 
> For those who are surprised that I decided to take the time to start a new story instead of focusing on one of my other stories, well I'm a little surprised as well. This is something that I had sitting in my pocket, but I was going to wait until after I completed Liars and got a little further along in Caprice to start this, so when I got the a request from Fandom_frenzy, I originally said that it would take a while. However, I shifted some things in my schedule, giving me extra time to write this weekend, but my new chapter of Caprice wasn't flowing, and I just updated Liars with two chapters, so decided to work on this instead. 
> 
> If after reading this chapter you enjoy it, please read my end notes regarding future updates.

**Chapter One: Lipslide**

 

***Firkle POV***

I'm waiting again. It's always like this, he picks the time and the place where he wants to meet up - today it's in front of the Walgreens - I always show up early, and he's always fucking late!

This is our tenth 'unofficial' date, and his being late doesn't surprise me anymore. I didn't even rush to get here today, I took my time showering, and selected my outfit carefully. Even though he hasn't said it - he's too nice to say it - I know that he hates how I dress.

Today, instead of my regular black ensemble, I decided to add a little color, so I'm wearing a short sleeve blood red T-shirt with black motorcycle boots, and a pair of black vintage jeans that I savaged from Michael's attic. Michael used to wear them when he was my age, but they're big on me, since I'm kind of fucking small for my age, so I added a grungy black leather belt that I borrowed from Pete. Ike will probably hate this outfit, but fuck it, he knows that I'll never be a conformist.

I want a cigarette so fucking bad, but I'm trying to cut back. Ike says I'm too young to be smoking, and that people don't like to kiss someone who has cigarette breath. So I don't smoke on the days when I'm suppose to meet up with him. The thing is, we've met up every single day since summer started, so I rarely get to smoke anymore, but he hasn't kissed me yet. He doesn't even try to hold my hand, not that I'd let him if he tried.

The weather sucks again today, this heat wave has lasted nearly a month, and it doesn't seem like it will ever let up. I bought a cup of coffee on my walk over, but I don't really feel like drinking hot coffee while waiting in the hot sun, so it sits untouched at my side.

"Yuck!" I spot a weird little bug crawling up on the side of my coffee cup, so I back off a bit. I really hate fucking insects, and this one is really a weirdo.

Looking closer, I notice that the bug is actually handicapped. I think it's a cricket, but it's missing one of its legs, which makes me feel sort of sorry for it. I don't want it to crawl into my coffee and drown, so I pick up the cup and shake the little guy off into the grass, before getting up and walking across to the trash can and popping the still full cup inside.

Peeking through the glass into Walgreens, the hideous wall clock informs me that Ike is nearly 40 minutes late. It's the longest he's ever kept me waiting, and I contemplate calling him, but I won't, because that would show I give a damn, and I don't!

The parking lot is getting crowded now because the conformist have started waking up. I head back to the only shady area, and spot the little crippled bug again. Now, it's limping slowly towards the other end of the sidewalk. I'm bored, so I sit and watch it hobble across the pavement until I notice the group of girls that are just about to cross paths with it. They'll definitely step on it.

It's too late to save it, so I avert my eyes, not wanting to witness death so early in the morning.

Miraculously, the little guy survived, he made it out from under their numerous feet no worse for wear, and I know that I shouldn't feel happy about that, but somehow I do. I guess it's because he's a little like me, a sad tiny creep, broken and different from all of the other bugs, yeah he's exactly like me.

'Ah!' He's almost to the other side now, but here comes a guy on a bicycle! Shit, he's directly in the bike's path. I jump to my feet, feeling desperate to rescue the little guy, but alas I'm too freakin' late! The bug ends up squashed under the tires of some douchebag's red bicycle.

"Fucking murderer." I mumble under my breath, but then it hits me, maybe the bug crawled out into the pedestrian traffic on purpose? What if it was trying to commit suicide... that would make him slightly different than me, because although I've wanted to die nearly every single day of my life for as long as I can remember, I don't actually have the courage to kill myself.

Now, I really need a cigarette, but instead I pull open my backpack and take out a little white paper bag with the Walgreens logo. I open it and peek inside. It contains two tootsie roll pops. One is raspberry, my favorite flavor, but it was the last one in the store; the other is orange, which I don't really like, but the only other option in the store was chocolate, and I don't like chocolate at all. I hope Ike likes orange.

I look up suddenly, when I hear the familiar click clack click of Ike's skateboard rolling down the sidewalk towards me. I don't smile as I look towards him, but it's hard not to, because he's just so freaking... interesting, dazzling, unique... he's everything that I don't know how to be.

Ike's younger than me, but he's so much taller. Whereas, I'm scrawny and pale, he's wholesome and tan with a faint dusting of freckles that run across the bridge of his nose. He looks directly at you when he speaks, and he's not shy at all. His eyes are really interesting, all dark with long lashes. If Ike was Goth he wouldn't even need eyeliner. But Ike could never be Goth, because his smile is too freaking big. It's all toothy and boyish, and it makes you feel less depressed when you look at it. Yeah, Ike could never be Goth, because he shines too bright. Bright enough to chase away the shadows that I conceal deep within.

As he gets closer to me he gives me this big cocky grin, and flips his board into the air and onto the metal railing that is directly in front of me. He lipslides past and lands a few feet away.

"Fucking show off!" I call out to him, but my heart is beating so fast, and I have this weird achy craving in the center of my chest, but I'm used to it now, because it happens whenever he's around.

He skates slowly back and stops in front of me, still grinning happily.

"Sorry, I'm late." He stares into my eyes and apologizes. "My mom was being a pain."

"That's okay, I just got here." I lie and look down at my boots awkwardly, so he can't see my eyes. If he sees into my eyes, he'll know that I'm lying, and he might figure out some other things too. Things that it's better he doesn't know.

I pull the tootsie roll pops out of the bag and hold them up.

"Which one do you want?" I ask, secretly hoping that he won't take the raspberry.

"Raspberry's your favorite, right?" He asks, and I nod, surprised that he knows that about me.

"It's my favorite too." He says with a smirk, plucks the raspberry sucker out of my hand, and pulls off the wrapper.

"Agh!" I groan, guess I'll have to settle for the orange after all.

"Let's share." Ike offers and pops the lollypop into my mouth, than he throws an arm around my shoulder and starts leading me away.

I pull the sucker out of my mouth, so that I can ask, "Where are we going today?"

"Well, first we're going to the mall." He informs me, while pulling the sucker from my hands and placing it between his lips.

"I freaking hate the mall" I grumble, and pluck the sucker back from him and return it to my mouth.

"I know, but, we need to get some cooler clothes."

Shit, I guess he isn't too nice to say it after all. Somehow this makes me feel really disappointed. I stop in my tracks.

"Oh crap, Firkle," He stops too and looks down at me seriously, "I didn't mean that kind of cooler. I mean like cooler, as in it's too fucking hot for that outfit. We're going to use Token's pool, and you can't swim in jeans."

His arm is still around my shoulder, and I keep sucking on the lolly, and it's hard to look him in the eye, so I look down at my clothing... my not so cool clothing...

Suddenly his hand is on my chin, lifting it up so he can stare into my eyes... he sees it? Yeah, it's rather hard to miss.

"Sorry," He whispers, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a clean white cloth... how many eleven year olds carry around handkerchiefs in this day and age, in America? My guess would be just one.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." He tells me, as he wipes away my tears, as well as quite a bit of my makeup. I pull out the sucker and I place it back in his mouth. He sucks on it for a moment, still staring at my face, and making me uncomfortable, because I'm certain that what he's seeing isn't very pretty.

"You don't need makeup to be beautiful." He sighs in a voice so low that I would have missed it had I not been watching his lips closely, because they are moving slowly towards me...

It's quick, just a gentle slide against my lips, but that counts as a kiss, right?

"You stopped smoking?" He asks, and I nod shyly.

He noticed, so for today, perhaps, I don't want to die.

Token's wouldn't be my first choice of places to hang out, but as long as I'm with him, I guess anyplace is fine.

#############

End of first chapter.


	2. Frontside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading! Thanks for the kudos, follows, and favorites. A special thank you to everyone who took the additional step and left comments or reviews.
> 
> Apologies to those of you who are waiting for the next chapter of Caprice, I had planned that to be my next update, but it's not flowing, so I need to make you wait a bit longer.
> 
> Also, regarding the timeline for those who are reading this alongside Caprice. Chapter 1 & 2 of this story falls between Chapter 1 & 2 of Caprice. Basically this is before the impromptu pool party from Chapter 2.
> 
> *Enjoy!******************

**Chapter 2: Frontside**

***Ike POV (P** **rologue)** **************

I'd known of his existence even before I ran into him on my first day at Kindergarten. The kids at the local park spoke of the little creepy Goth child, who hung out at the graveyard. When I heard he chain smoked and drank tons of coffee, at the ripe old age of five years old, my curiosity was piqued.

Unfortunately, my first meeting with Firkle was a bit of a disaster. I was proudly walking through the hallway of my new school, dressed to impress in my finest two piece suit, when I saw him. I was certain I'd spotting an angel; black hair, mysterious eyes, porcelain skin, soft lips; a tiny dark beautiful angel. He stood by the lockers, drinking a cup of coffee, and talking to a person I assumed was his older sister.

I was completely enchanted, and ballsy enough to walk right up to him, call him 'Dark Angel Cutie Pie' and ask him to be my girlfriend. He tossed his cup of coffee in my face, called me a conformist prick, and wouldn't come within three feet of me for the next seven years.

I was only three years old at the time, so I picked up my heart and moved on with my life, but often during lunchtime, I would catch myself watching him. Firkle was indeed a cutie pie, but he was also the most peculiar kid at our school. Aside from me, of course.

I've always known that I wasn't like other kids. It's not just the fact that I'm Canadian, and a bit bizarre looking when compared to most of these cookie cutter American kids; I also have an exceptionally high IQ, which makes me just smart enough to downplay my intelligence in order to fit in.

Unlike myself, Firkle had no interest in fitting in. He walked around school surrounded by his Gothic bodyguards, and even when luck finally put us in the same class he made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with my kind. Firkle seemed completely unattainable. No matter how much I desired to get to know him, there were no flaws in his armor for me to breach, I was forced to be content with worshiping my dark angel from afar.

This year everything changed, or more precisely, his friends started to change. After Michael graduated, their little group slowly fell apart. Henrietta started attending her classes more often, and she began spending lunchtime studying in the library. Pete started skipping school completely, showing up only enough to keep from getting kicked out.

This left Firkle to fend for himself. After a couple weeks of watching him smoking alone, and looking heartbroken, I decided I needed to make a move.

Since I watched him so much, I couldn't help but notice the way Firkle's eyes followed Kenny McCormick whenever Kenny was screwing around on his skateboard. At first I was annoyed, until I realized that the object of his interest was Kenny's skateboard, and not Kenny himself.

I immediately quit using the school bus, and started riding my skateboard to school. This worked so well it was almost frightening. Whenever I pulled out my board, Firkle would start watching me. Needless to say I started riding around on my skateboard a lot.

Two days before summer started, I casually asked Firkle if he wanted to hang out after school, and he surprised me by nodding. At first things didn't go smoothly, I have a bad habit of showing up late, and I've screwed up, and said the wrong thing more times than I can count, but for some reason he keeps agreeing to hang out with me.

***Ike POV*****************

As we pass a dark conspicuous building baring a large 'OPENING SOON' banner, I slow my stride because Firkle has slowed his, and my arm is currently wrapped around his shoulder.

"It looks interesting?" I don't answer, because I'm not certain if that was a question. I just look where he's looking.

"What do you think it is?" He continues curiously.

I see Damien standing in the parking lot to the side of the building, discussing something with a group of construction workers. He smirks when he catches my eye, so I give him a dirty look and nudge Firkle along gently.

"Who cares, if Damien Thorn is involved it can't be anything good." I mutter, and Firkle looks at me silently for a moment, before staring back towards the building.

"We used to think Damien was a poser, but turns out he's the real deal, a true son of darkness, it's rather ..." He doesn't finish his sentence, but he has a wistful look in his eyes. It makes me feel uneasy, so I pull him closer and plant a possessive kiss on his cheek, just a gentle reminder that he's with me. I've worked too hard to get Firkle's attention, I won't be losing to the spawn of Satan.

He blushes softly, and turns his interest back to me, but we are blocking the drive, and a blond in a gorgeous car is trying to pull in. I lead Firkle along, while admiring the sexy jet black Corvette convertible as it passes us by. The guy behind the wheel is also eye catching, but he's not nearly as pretty as the boy standing next to me.

"Let's go." Firkle nudges me with his elbow, and I notice that he's sulking, which is really cute and kind of awesome. I smile at him, and pretend I don't notice that he's jealous, but when he pulls away and starts walking down the street alone, leaving me behind, it's a lot less awesome. I hurry after him, making a mental note, so I remember to never make him feel that way again.

***Firkle POV****************

"So what are you doing here?" Michael asks from behind the mall security desk.

"I should ask you that." I reply indifferently.

Michael looks ridiculous in his ugly blue security guard uniform. Since graduating high school Michael has become the worst type of conformist, it's no wonder Pete stopped hanging out with him. At least Henrietta's job at the coffee house is somewhat acceptable, since it means all the free coffee we can drink, but a fucking mall cop! It hurts to see him like this.

"Don't start, I don't exactly like it either. It was either move out, go to college, or get a freaking job." Michael tries to justify his insanity.

"So go to college." I tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

"How's Pete doing?" He finally asks despondently, while staring into the security monitor in front of him, and pretending he isn't completely miserable.

"Why don't you call him and find out?" I spit out bitterly.

I saw Pete earlier this morning when I stopped by his house to borrow a belt; he also seemed miserable, but Pete always seems that way. Pete asked me how Michael was doing. It's so fucking stupid! Since when did it become my job to play peacemaker between my two best friends? I don't even know what they're fighting about, or if they are even fighting, because nobody tells me anything. I just know that lately it sucks to be around them. I much prefer Ike's company.

Feeling annoyed, I turn my back on him, and start searching for Ike. He said he needed to do something and that he'd be right back, what's taking him so long? It's still early enough in the day that the mall isn't too crowded, but I'd like to get our shopping over with and get the hell out of here; I really do hate the fucking mall, and running into Michael has put me in the worst mood.

Fortunately, I see him now. He's walking towards us from across the mall, with one hand held behind his back.

I bend down, and pick up my backpack and Ike's skateboard.

"See you around." I don't look at Michael as I say this, because I just can't. I miss us, the way we used to be. I wish Michael and Henrietta never started dating, because it screwed everything up.

"Sorry I took so long, there was a line." Ike apologizes. I shake my head and stop directly in front of him, peering up at his face, recharging myself on his smile.

"I got you a present for not smoking." He says, and pulls his hand from his back. He's holding a handful of raspberry tootsie roll pops that have been tied together like a bouquet with a thick black ribbon. It's so totally embarrassing, and lame, and wonderful!

"Thank you." I say quietly, trying not to let my excitement show. What Michael broke, Ike fixed so easily. I accept his gift, and hand him his skateboard, so I can slip the lollypops carefully into my backpack.

As we start moving through the mall he reaches over and places his arm back over my shoulder. It seems he really likes walking together this way, I'm starting to like it too, I'm not even worried that Michael is probably watching.

***Ike POV*****************

"Firkle, how are you doing in there?" I call out as I enter the men's dressing room. I sent Firkle back earlier with a pile of clothes to try on, and I'm carrying another armful that I'm certain will look great on him.

I know it's not very manly, but I like dressing people. I've had a lot of practice at it. I've been picking out my big brother's outfits for the past five years. If not for me Kyle would still be wearing horrifying green hats with ugly orange jackets.

I'm pretty fond of the way Firkle dresses, his Goth look is cute and it suits him. However, I've had this fantasy rolling around my head for a while, I want to see what he looks like as a regular boy. This heat wave simply gave me an excuse to get him into a dressing room.

"Firkle?" I call out again, and once again I'm met with silence. I'm faced with a long line of dressing rooms, many which are currently in use. If I was Firkle, which one would I pick? That's easy, I decide, and head all the way back to the end where most of the rooms are empty, except for the very last one.

"Firkle?" I knock on the door lightly, and hear him mumbling something to himself. I knock once more, to let him know that I'm not going anywhere.

The door opens just a crack and a pile of clothing is dropped out onto the floor, "They don't fit!" The door slams shut again.

I suppress the chuckle that is begging to leak out from my lips. I'm basically a savant when it comes to sizing things up, so I'm certain that size isn't the problem. Bending down, I pick up the pile of clothes, before gently knocking on the dressing room door again.

"Firkle, open up, I have more outfits for you to try." I tell him, and when the door creaks open again, I push my way in and shut it behind me.

"Get out!" Firkle yells, and crosses his arms over his bare chest attempting to cover up. For a moment I'm frozen, torn between wanting to keep staring at him, because I've never seen anything more lovely in my life, and my desire not to fuck things up anymore than I obviously have.

I'm supposed to be a genius, so how could I do something so stupid! I'm so used to helping my friends pick out clothes, I simply didn't consider the fact that Firkle isn't just one of my buddies, he's special, and now I'm in a pinch, and I need to play this off.

"Get the fuck out!" He repeats, as I start hanging the clothing in my hands on the available hooks, doing my best to appear casual.

"Sorry." I mutter lamely, and focus my eyes on his face, pretending that I didn't even notice his tiny pale nipples, flawless skin, and adorable black cat boxer briefs.

"Why aren't you leaving?" Firkle hisses, and kicks me in the shin.

"It's not a big deal, right? We're both guys." I say casually, "I'm just here to help you pick out new clothes. If it bothers you, I'll cover my eyes, and you can tell me when it's okay to look." I step back as far as I can go, turn my back to him, and cover my eyes with my hands.

The room is silent for a moment, but he finally lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Fine, just don't look." He warns me, and I nod.

I wait patiently, listening to the sound of clothing rustling behind me, until finally Firkle clears his throat.

"Can I look now?"

"I guess." Firkle says solemnly, and I open my eyes and turn around.

'Sweet!' Is what I'm thinking, because this look also suits him. Out of the huge pile of colorful clothes that I picked out he predictably chose a pair of plain black board shorts with a plain black t-shirt. It looks great, but I want to challenge him just a bit.

"That looks great on you, now how about we try this one?" I hold up a tank top with pale green and white stripes, and his eyes widen as he swallows nervously, and shakes his head.

I grin at him, and move closer, while pulling the shirt off the hanger and holding it out.

"Just try it for me." I request, and he takes it out of my hand, looks it over and sits it aside.

"How about that?" He points to a black and red striped v neck with mid-length sleeves, and I agree that would look great on him, but I'm not ready to give up on the tank, because I'm certain he'll look cute in it, so I shake my head, and step even closer.

"What?" He looks at me uncomfortably, and I grab the black T-shirt he's wearing and lift it up.

"Just trust me." I whisper, while tugging the shirt over his head, and off, tossing it to the side. His arms immediately cross over his chest again, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I pick up the tank top.

"Arms in the air." I instruct, and when he refuses I raise my eyebrows and give him a look to show I'm serious. He stamps his feet rebelliously, but does as I ask, holding his arms up, so I can slip the tank top on.

Smiling mischievously as I pull the top down over his head, I run my fingers along his velvety soft chest, before quickly tweaking one cute perky nipple, and pulling my hands away letting the shirt drop into place.

"Douchebag!" Firkle cries out, and starts slugging me.

"I couldn't help myself, you just looked too cute." I tell him and bust up laughing.

"I'm... not... cute!" He growls, punching me in the arm after each word.

"I hate to break it to you, but you're very cute. In fact, I've never met anyone even half as cute as you!" I tell him and capture him in my arms to make him stop hitting me. I stare down into his eyes, and he's staring up at me pouting angrily. I just can't take it. I lower my head, close my eyes, and kiss him gently, allowing my lips to linger against his, tasting his gentle breath, while feeling my heart speeding up.

I'm in deep trouble, I've suspected it for a while, but now I'm certain. My heart is yearning for something that I'm probably too young to completely understand, but this isn't just a childish crush!

I might be a kid, but I'm a smart kid. Smart enough to know that I'm definitely gay, because I want Firkle to be my boyfriend. My mother isn't going to like this, Kyle probably isn't going to like it either, but it's too late to turn back, I'm fascinated with this peculiar delightful boy, and I'm keeping him!

***End of Chapter 2********

So as I was finishing my QC on this, I couldn't help but notice that Ike is like a million times smoother than the seventeen year old Craig in my main story Caprice. How exactly did that happen? Must have something to do with him being abducted by aliens when he was 2. Yeah, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!


	3. Bail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading! Thanks for the kudos, follows, and favorites. A special thank you to everyone who took the additional step and left comments or reviews.
> 
> Timeline: This takes place at the end of Chapter 2 of Caprice in case it seems familiar. ; )
> 
> *Enjoy!******************

**Chapter Three: Bail**

***Firkle POV************

Three times, that's how many times he kissed me today. Twice on the lips, once on my cheek. The last kiss was my favorite, it was like an enchantment that made me feel wondrously content. I'd like to feel that way some more, but I probably won't because once we got to Token's house, and Ike was around his older brother and his friends, he changed. He started acting differently, he's still sprinted, and witty, and all of the things that make him better than most people, but the moment we got here, he pulled his arm away from my shoulder, and he never put it back. I guess we're back to being friends, instead of whatever we were earlier. Not that I care!

We've been here for hours, and I sort of want to go home. We went swimming, ate dinner, and drank beer out of coffee cups, because Ike didn't want his brother to know what he was drinking. His brother drinks too, so I don't know what his problem is.

I know that I'm different from the rest of Ike's friends, and I'm certain that I don't belong here. Ike can dress me up like them, but it doesn't make me one of them. Right now, I feel like I'm invisible, an outsider. Maybe Ike has discovered that too, maybe that's why he changed.

The most annoying person in the group is Eric Cartman, I don't understand how someone like him even has friends, because the guy's a total dick!

"I can't believe Craig ditched you guys to go bone Tweek, what a crappy friend." Cartman starts badmouthing Craig as soon as he leaves. Craig has been friends with Cartman for as long as I can remember, yet here he is, talking shit behind his back. It's so ugly.

"Shut the fuck up, Eric, those two aren't boning." Token scolds him. Token Black is the only one who noticed my new look. I guess he's nice enough, but he's an obvious conformist, and I get the feeling that he thinks he's too good for this town.

"Right. I suppose next you are going to try and tell me that Stan and Kyle aren't boning either".

"Stan and Kyle aren't gay!" Wendy and Ike say at the exact same time, but they are wrong. Earlier on my way to the restroom, I saw Kyle and Stan kissing in the hallway. I don't think they know that I saw them, since I'm invisible. I walked right past them, and they didn't even notice me, they just kept right on sucking face.

"Fine, and I guess Stan and Kyle AREN'T in one of Token's guest rooms screwing each other's brains out right now." Cartman huffs.

"They're not!" Ike insists angrily. I look at him, tempted to ask why it really matters, why is he so upset anyway?

"You just keep telling yourself that Ike, and while we're at it, maybe we should discuss your little brother complex." Cartman smiles knowingly.

Ike has a 'Brother complex'? Yeah, maybe that's what it is?

When we were younger Ike often got teased by the other kids, not as much as I got teased, but the things Ike got teased about were kind of creepy.

_"Did you hear about Ike Broflovski? He had an affair with his Kindergarten teacher, but when he got board with her, he dumped her, so she killed herself!"_

Yeah that was the one that got my attention, because that teacher really did die. She has a grave in the South Park cemetery. There were other rumors too, like how Ike took growth hormones to make himself more mature, how he only thinks of sex, and how he's in love with his brother Kyle.

Now that I think about it, he looks pretty mature for his age, and that thing in the dressing room...

"Fuck you, Cartman." Ike screams. Jumping up he storms for the house, Wendy rolls her eyes at Cartman and goes after Ike.

_'Maybe I should leave?'_

***Ike's POV*******************

I storm up to the finely crafted mahogany door, and I attempt to open it. The door is locked, but they aren't sleeping! Token's house might have thick expensive doors, but they're not soundproof, and I know I heard something!

Sliding the side of my face close to the door, I press my ear against it, hold my breath, and listen closely. That's when I hear it, a deep dirty moan! It's not my brother, at least I don't think that sounded like Kyle. That was Stan Marsh moaning, gross! What the fuck is that son of a bitch doing to my innocent brother!?

"Fuck!" I bang on the door loudly... silence...

I put my ear against the door again, and hear very faint whispering.

"Ike, don't!" Wendy calls out as she comes up the stairs.

_'Stupid cow, this is your fault, if you hadn't dumped Stan he'd still be throwing up on you, instead of slobbering all over my brother!'_

I throw her a dirty look, and pound the door even louder.

"Open up you assholes, I know you're not sleeping. Stan Marsh, you piece of shit! Get your hands off my brother and OPEN THE GOD DAMN DOOR!"

That got results, I can hear them shuffling around the room, and talking loudly.

***Firkle POV************

I can hear Ike screaming about something as I climb up the stairway to the second floor. I hesitate... _'this isn't my business, I should just leave, I can call him later, or not...'_

I don't leave, I continue up the stairs. Ike and Wendy are standing in front of a door. The door opens, and Stan steps out. He's dressed only in swim trunks, and looks pretty disheveled, but Ike's the one I'm concerned about.

Ike looks pissed, really pissed! I keep moving closer, just until I can see inside the room to see what Ike's so angry about.

His brother Kyle stands beside a messy bed, dressed in swim trunks. Someone's underpants are laying at the foot of the bed. Kyle notices them and snatches them up, he hides them behind his back, causing Wendy to giggle and Ike to scowl.

Kyle's red hair is more chaotic than regular, his face is bright red, and I think that's a hickey on his chest, yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what Pete refers to as 'the just fucked look'.

"This isn't what it looks like." Stan addresses this to Wendy, even though it is Ike that he should be worried about. Ike looks like he wants to kill him.

"What the fuck are you thinking, Kyle, you're not gay!" Ike yells at his brother. "You better not be gay!"

Kyle is silent, it's Stan who answers, "We're not gay!"

"Stan, please!" Wendy tells him. "I'm not blind, and you certainly don't need to hide this from me, I'll accept you no matter what."

"I'm not gay, Wendy, we just drank too much, and made a mistake. We're straight." Stan tells her.

Stan and Ike don't see it, because Stan's looking at Wendy, and Ike's glaring at Stan, but I see it. The look on Kyle's face makes my heart hurt! I'm sure Stan is drunk, they both drank a ton of beer today, but he still shouldn't have said it like that. That was mean!

Ike turns on Stan, "If you ever touch my brother again, I'll fucking kill you!"

"Ike, stop!" Kyle calls out to him angrily. "You don't need to worry about this. It's like Stan says. We're not gay, we just drank too much and ended up doing something very stupid. It won't happen again!"

Now Stan's looking at Kyle, "Kyle, wait, I didn't mean..."

Stan starts heading back into the bedroom, but Ike pushes in front of him, and shoves the larger boy out into the hall.

"You heard my brother asswipe, he's not gay!" He slams the door in Stan's face, leaving Stan in hallway, with Wendy and me. We can hear Kyle yelling at Ike behind the door.

I don't understand Ike right now. Why is Kyle being gay an issue? Is Ike straight?

 _He had an affair with his Kindergarten teacher, his female Kindergarten teacher_...

I've seen enough to know that I don't belong here. Turning around, I walk down the stairs.

My backpack is sitting near the front door, next to Ike's skateboard and two shopping bags full of clothes. I'm dressed in the black T-shirt, black shorts, and black flip flops that Ike made me wear, and I want to change, but I don't want to stay in this house long enough to do so.

Instead, I pick up the backpack, and grab the shopping bag that has my old clothing in it, leaving the other outfits that Ike picked out for me behind. I doubt that I'll be needing them after all...

_'I'm one hundred percent gay! I sort of thought he was too'._

That kid Butters is staggering through the hallway towards me.

"Firkle, are you alright, little buddy?" I nod. I think about pointing out that I'm not fucking little, at least not any more so than Butters himself, but I just don't have it in me.

"Okay... Well, have you seen Wendy?" He asks next, so I point towards the stairs, nod goodbye, and head for the door.

Once outside, I walk slowly down the front steps and follow the long drive to the road. The moment I get there I pull my blood red T-shirt out of the shopping bag, and use it to wipe the tears from my eyes. I take a deep breath, and think about having a cigarette, but decide to wait until I get down the street a bit, because I don't want to have to dig them out of my backpack while standing in front of Token's house.

It's over, I shouldn't be upset. I'm Goth, I don't date guys with brother complexes, and I don't date straight guys! Hell, we probably weren't even dating! It's not worth crying about... I won't... FUCK! Why can't I stop?

I start walking, but when I get to the end of the block I hear him calling my name. Turning my head and glancing back I see Ike standing in front of Token's house. He waves me back and calls out, but I ignore him, and keep walking away.

I hear the skateboard now, click, clack, click... so I start to run.

"Firkle, wait!" Ike calls, but I'm not waiting, I start running faster, but that damn skateboard is gaining on me! I get to the corner and enter the park, because the grass should slow Ike down, but when I do my right flip flop gets caught on the pavement, and I trip. Losing my balance I fall forward. I put my hands out, catching myself to avoid my face coming in contact with the ground, but it still hurts like hell!

"Damn, stupid conformist shoe!" I curse, and roll over, planning to get back on my feet and continue my escape, but it's too late, Ike has caught up with me. He leaps off his skateboard, not caring that it rolls away into the street.

"Are you hurt?" He asks anxiously. Dropping to the ground beside me, he starts examining me. I'm lucky, my hands took the brunt of the fall, they are a bit scraped up, my toe is stubbed, and my right knee is bleeding, but otherwise I think I'm okay. Anyway, my pride hurts a whole lot worse than my body.

"I'm fine, go away!" I tell him, and try to stand, but my balance is off, so I drop back down. It hurts too freaking much! I put my face in my hands, and I start to sob.

"Firkle?" Ike's wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I don't fight it, I bury my face into his chest and I start to bawl. I feel so fucking weak and I hate this! I hate it!

"Don't cry, angel." He tells me, while holding me close and running his fingers through my hair. I cringe at the name, I'm not an angel, and this is not the first time that he's called me that.

"Stop." I tell him, and pull back. He looks at me, and I know that he has no clue why I'm even upset.

Reaching into his pocket he pulls out his handkerchief, but when he tries to wipe away my tears I pull away, and shake my head. He grabs a hold of my hand and pushes the handkerchief between my fingers, so I take it and use it to dab at my eyes.

"Come on, let's go back." He tells me, but I shake my head.

"I just want to go home." I whisper, and work on holding back my tears, because I don't want him to see me cry anymore.

"Fine, but let's go back to Token's and get you cleaned up first. Your leg is bleeding a lot." I look down and see that he's right, not only is blood dripping down my leg, the handkerchief is tinged in blood from the cuts on my hand.

I nod at him, and he gives me a worried smile, before jumping up and walking to the street to retrieve his skateboard.

I stand up, but before I can pick up my bag he has it in his hand. He also pulls my backpack off from my shoulder and throws it over his own.

We start back towards Token's in silence.

"I'm sorry," He finally says, as we are walking up Token's drive.

"What are you sorry for?" I ask, because I'm certain that he still has no clue why I'm upset, so why is he apologizing?

"I'm sorry that I screwed up again, and did something to hurt your feelings." He sighs, and stops walking, so that he can turn and look me in the eye.

"And I'm sorry that I made you cry again!"

"Do you have a brother complex?" I ask him, and he chuckles.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me, so I guess I must." He says honestly, and looks warmly into my eyes. "Listen, I love my brother a hell of a lot, but I'm not in love with him or anything creepy like that."

"I see." I say, and bite at a broken fingernail, while I digest that.

"Come on let's get you cleaned up."

***Ike's POV*******************

I did it again, I totally screwed up, and I made him cry again. Worse he fell down, and got cuts all over his beautiful skin.

My brother and Stan returned to the backyard, so I brought Firkle to the upstairs bathroom to avoid running into them. I'm so fucking upset at Kyle, what the fuck is he thinking? We can't both be gay, mom will freak out so bad!

I clean and bandage Firkle's wounds, feeling guilty about every little scrap and cut that I caused.

Afterwards, I bring him to Token's family room, because we need to talk. Something is still bothering him, and I'm afraid if I let him go home like this, he might never want to see me again.

I lead him to Token's most comfortable chair. Token likes to call it his baby. It's this big, mega comfortable, awesome looking, leather chair. Whenever we do movies or video games at Token's, all of the guys fight over who gets to sit in it, but I decide to let Firkle have the honor this time.

I sit down on the floor in front of him, and kiss his bandaged knee gently, before looking up at him.

"So what else is bothering you?" Taking one of his hands in mine, I kiss his gauze wrapped palms, before moving on to each of his fingers.

He's silent, but I can tell he has something that he wants to say. I don't want to rush him, so I move on to his other hand, and repeat the process of kissing away the pain that I caused.

Finally, he lets out a big sigh, and says something completely crazy. "So, you're straight, right?"

"Dude! Really!?" I fight back my laughter, because he's obviously serious, but why would he think something like that?

"Cute, silly, crybaby Angel." I mutter, shaking my head. I pull myself off the ground, and squeeze in next to him on the comfy chair.

I wrap my arms around him, and pull him as close as possible, while placing my lips on his. When he tries to turn away, I grab his chin in one hand and deepen the kiss, and when he tries to open his mouth to protest I slide my tongue between his lips, capture his tongue and hold it hostage until he starts to squirm.

I break the kiss for just long enough to ask. "Would a straight guy kiss you like that?"

"Maybe?" He whispers, so I kiss him again, diving back into his mouth, and running my tongue along the roof of his mouth, before capturing his tongue again. I move my hand down and slide it up under his t-shirt, roaming my hands along his silky skin. When he tenses up, I pull back, and look into his eyes.

"Still think I'm straight?"

"If you're not, why do you have such a problem with Kyle being gay?" He finally asks, and I suddenly get it. I really am stupid about the dumbest things sometimes.

"It's not that I don't want my brother to be gay, I'd just rather he wasn't gay for that jerkwad Stan Marsh. Plus Kyle being gay makes things a lot more difficult for us."

"How so?" Firkle asks, while repositioning himself, laying his head on my shoulder.

"Because, my mother wants grandchildren, lots of grandchildren. I'm adopted, so if I'm gay, she'll probably get over it, but if both of us are gay, no hope for grandchildren, right?"

"I see." Firkle mumbles, and cuddles up closer, making me smile, because it just feels so nice to hold him like this.

"Me, I'll probably end up adopting, but my mom has her heart set on little red headed grandchildren, so my brother needs to stay straight."

"Don't you think you're too young to be worrying about all this?" Firkle says with a frown, and I place a quick kiss on his forehead.

"I'm mature for my age." I remind him, and he nods.

"So the growth hormone rumor?"

_'Crap, does he know every bad thing about me, or what?'_

"Totally true." I admit, "Any other questions?"

"The kindergarten teacher?"

' _Yep, apparently he does'._

"I was three, I was on the rebound from the angel who threw coffee at me, you can't hold that against me. Anything else?"

Firkle smirks, before shaking his head.

He's silent for awhile, before speaking softly, "I'm adopted too... well, sort of. My aunt and uncle took me in after..." His voice drops off mid-sentence, and I wait patiently hoping he will continue, but he doesn't.

Instead he asks, "So is it true that you are a sex maniac?"

"No, I'm am not a sex maniac!"

_'Fuck, who's spreading that rumor, it's Filmore right, it has got to be him!'_

"Okay, listen, I'm far from innocent, but I don't whore around either. I just know what I'm doing, I've done my research, research is important, right?" I explain, and I hope that will be enough. I don't want Firkle having the wrong idea about me.

"Yeah, I suppose." Firkle agrees to my relief.

I wonder if I should ask a few questions of my own, because I'm curious about why he never lets me walk him home, but he suddenly lifts his head, leans forward, and inquires in a very small but serious voice, "So research is important?"

"Yes, very important." I assure him, and he nods, and places his lips against mine. I decide my questions can wait until later. Instead I pull him on top of me, and focus on just kissing him back.

***End of Chapter 3******


	4. Push

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading! Thanks for the kudos, follows, and favorites. A special thank you to everyone who took the additional step and left comments or reviews.
> 
>   **fallingwthstyle;** my dear friend and most excellent Beta Reader - Your help is really appreciated, since we both know I can't QC myself to save my life, and your friendship is even better. Thank you so much!
> 
> *Enjoy****

**Chapter 4: Push**

 

***Firkle's POV******

It's dark in the room, and I'm frightened, but it isn't the darkness that scares me. I'm afraid of the light creeping through the crack in the door, and I'm terrified of the voices from the other side.

I curl up into a small ball, and hold the pillow over my ears, I hate what comes next.

Tonight, the crying is loud, so loud that it bleeds through my pillow. I shudder and try to ignore it.

_"Don't come out at night, baby, be a good boy and stay in your bed."_

When the screaming starts, I pull the pillow away from my ears, and I listen carefully. I'm used to the tears, but the screams come less often; she's afraid her screams will wake me, but I'm already awake.

"Stop, please, it hurts!"

I grab my Terri, and hold him to my chest. Terri is big, much bigger than I am, and he's soft and funny looking, but the thing I love best is his smile.

Placing my bare feet on the cold tile floor, I tiptoe towards the door.

Now I hear other sounds, sounds of shuffling, followed by soft pounding, and finally another scream, but it's muffled this time. I'm tempted to run back to my bed, but now she's choking, and I want to protect her. I hold Terri tighter and creep forward slowly. Terri protects me, he helps me whenever I'm afraid, so perhaps Terri can protect her as well.

I've made it to the door, and I peek into the brightly lit room. She's lying on the couch, her long black hair trailing down to puddle on the floor, and his hands are around her neck. Her eyes are looking right at me, but I don't think she can see me at all.

"MAMA!" I scream out.

Waking up I jump to my feet, and I run. I'm half way across the room before I stop.

"Firkle?"

A voice calls out to me, and I turn around, I feel disoriented, but I'm awake now. This is Token's house, Ike and I fell asleep on the chair. I had a bad dream, a really bad dream, but it's over now.

I stumble back to where Ike stands rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Come here," Ike says with a sleepy smile, and opens his arms so I can walk into them. He hugs me tightly, and places a kiss on my forehead.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

I nod, and press my face into his chest, breathing in his warm safe scent.

Hearing the door open, I pull away from Ike, and we watch Butters stumble into the room, stagger across the floor, and fall face first into the chair that Ike and I just vacated.

"Butters, are you alright?" Ike calls out to him, and Butter lifts one hand in the air, waves it around, and lets it drop. A moment later he starts to snore loudly.

"What time is it?" Ike asks, and pulls his phone from his pocket to answer his own question. "Shit! It's past midnight, I missed my curfew and didn't call home. My mom's going to kill me!"

Ike walks towards the door, than remembers our bags, and heads back to the coffee table where we piled everything. He starts collecting them, so I walk over to help.

"I'm walking you home, and if your parents are awake I can apologize to them for bringing you home so late." He tells me, and I shake my head.

I look at him like he's crazy, for a whole lot of reasons. It seems he's forgotten a few things, like the fact that I'm not a girl for instance.

"I don't need you to walk me home, and I don't live with my parents." I remind him.

"Oh, right. Sorry." Ike apologizes, although he doesn't need to, it's not like I expect him to remember everything I say.

"Just worry about yourself, my aunt and uncle don't care what time I come home." I tell Ike honestly, because I doubt my aunt and uncle would even notice if I disappeared completely.

"Lucky you," Ike smiles, "I wish my family was cool like that. Come on, let's go."

I don't bother to tell Ike that it has nothing to do with luck, or my family being cool; they most certainly are not cool, they are actually pretty horrible. Instead I gather my things and follow him out of the room.

"Ike?" Token calls out sternly, as we pass him and Clyde on our way down the stairs. "Have you two been here the whole time?"

"We fell asleep," Ike explains, "Is Kyle still here?"

"Your brother and Stan left a while ago. Do you two need a ride home?"

"I'm good... I can walk... I live close by!" I answer, before Ike gets the chance, and Ike looks at me with a frown.

"I don't care what you say. It's too late for you to be walking alone." Ike insists, but I refuse.

"I'm not some helpless chick!" I remind him. "I can protect myself, I have this," I pull out my new switchblade, which I'm pretty proud of. Unlike my old blade this one wasn't cheap. I bought it online, with money I earned all by myself, by selling an old DVD that I found laying around in the back of my closet.

"Dude, put that thing away, you'll hurt someone." Token frowns at me, so I slide my blade back in my pocket, and bite back the comment that's on the tip of my tongue, since I don't totally hate Token, even if he is acting like a bit of a douche.

"Come on," Ike says, and as we start down the stairs Clyde calls out to us.

"Ike, if your mom doesn't ground you, you two should come back around this evening. We're going to have a few people over. It'll be fun."

"Sure, sounds good." Ike says, and I bite my tongue again, because another night surrounded by conformists doesn't really interest me, but it's still better than hanging out at home alone.

***Ike's POV********

"You really won't let me walk you?" I ask again, even though I know I'm on the verge of becoming annoying, and if I'm not careful I'll piss Firkle off again.

"I already said no. I'll be fine walking alone, I do it all the time."

I know Firkle can take care of himself, but I can't help myself. I want to be the one who looks after him, even if he doesn't think he needs looking after. I'm also dying to learn more about him. I know he doesn't come from a poor family, since he always carries plenty of cash with him, so I'm curious why he seems to be ashamed of where he lives.

"Can I at least walk you halfway?" I try, and he looks at me with a slight frown.

He mentioned that he lives close by... but how close? South Park has changed a lot over the past five years, but it's still a really small town. If he lives close by he either lives in the renovated town homes near Skeeter's old place, or he lives in one of the expensive houses on the other side of the park. Mom really wanted to move to that area a while back, but dad talked her down. The mayor and some of our city officials live over there, so it's rather upscale.

I live on the other side of town, and even that could be considered fairly close, since it's only a few blocks away, but I know he doesn't live on my block, and he also doesn't live further away on Craig's block, since I know everyone who lives over there.

While I'm thinking about all this, Firkle makes a decision, "I'll walk you home instead. I'm older, so I'll make sure _you_ get home safely, and if your parents are awake _I_ can apologize for bringing _you_ home late." He's mocking me, which is kind of cute, but a bit of a let down, since that doesn't answer any of my questions.

Regardless, I know when I've lost, so I nod, and bend down to kiss his cheek, before tossing my arm over his shoulder, and leading him away.

"Will you really apologize to my parents for me?" I ask after we've been walking in silence for awhile.

This earns me a nervous chuckle, so I add, "Because my mom can be pretty scary sometimes, but I think you can take her."

After Firkle elbows me in the gut, I decide to remain silent for the rest of the walk home.

***Firkle's POV******

"You lucked out, it looks like my parents already went to bed." Ike teases me, as we head up the walkway in front of his house.

"I'm not afraid of your parents." I lie, because Sheila Broflovski is well known in town for being terrifying.

"So if you're not afraid, do you want to sneak up to my room and fool around with me until breakfast? I can introduce you when they wake up." Ike says a little too seriously, and I shake my head, with a frown.

"No? Too bad, I guess this will have to do for now." Wrapping his arms around my waist he pulls me in for a goodbye kiss, which quickly turns passionate when I feel his hand sliding up the back of my shirt. It feels really nice, so I allow it, but we're interrupted when a car pulls into the driveway next door, causing Ike to quickly pull away.

"Well goodnight, be careful on the walk home." He shoves my bags and backpack at me, and heads up his steps, before adding, "Call me when you get there, so I know you're safe."

I feel a little disappointed, because I wanted to kiss a little more, but his hand is already opening his front door, so I nod and start towards the sidewalk.

Ike's next door neighbor, Mr. Marsh, is the driver of the car that interrupted us. He grins at me and gives me a thumbs up. I wave back, and try not to roll my eyes at him, since Mr. Marsh is actually sort of cool for a grown up. At least he doesn't judge me like the rest of South Park.

"Hey... Firkle? It is Firkle right?" Mr. Marsh surprises me by calling out, and I notice that he sounds a little drunk. "Isn't it late for you to be out, do you need a ride home?"

"I'm fine, thank you Mr. Marsh." I spit out. He might be cool, but I still don't need him butting into my business.

I wasn't lying when I said that I live close to Token's. My house is just on the other side of the park, which also means I'm only a block and a half away from Ike's house. Our home is at the end of a cul-de-sac, within a small gated community. It wasn't always gated, but after the town riot a few years back, they added a security gate, which you need a keycard to pass through.

My aunt and uncle's home isn't as nice as Token's, but it is one of the better homes in South Park. I hate people knowing where I live, because it's fucking embarrassing for a number of reasons. The mayor is our next door neighbor, and the chief of police lives across the road, which kind of sucks to be perfectly honest.

To call my family a bunch of conformists would be an understatement. My uncle works in the Mayor's office and my aunt is the CEO for a non-profit that helps reform crack babies. Most people are under the misunderstanding that working for a non-profit is some noble sacrifice my aunt is making, but the truth is my aunt is in it for the money.

Instead of taking the main road back, I cut through a side path that leads directly to the park, which I quickly cross to get to my street. I let myself in through the security gate, and walk up the road to my house.

I enter our gate, but avoid the main entrance, and head around to the back. When I was nine my aunt and uncle got tired of dealing with me, so I was moved out of the main house. I grew up alone in the guest house, which makes it easier for them to pretend that I don't exist.

My door is never locked, so I push it open and step inside. I don't bother with locks, why make it harder on the housekeeper by forcing her to carry an additional key around. Lily works for my aunt and uncle, but she also cooks and cleans up after me. She is kinder than my aunt ever was, and I would have happily starved to death years ago, if not for the fact that she keeps my personal refrigerator stocked with pre-made food, so I always have something decent to eat.

On the floor, directly in front of my door, is a small white envelope. I bend down, and pick it up, but don't bother looking inside; I already know it contains my allowance, my uncle slips it under my door once a month. I carry it into my tiny kitchen, open a drawer and drop it on top of a bunch of other similar envelopes filled with cash.

I pull a pitcher of cold coffee out of the fridge and pour myself a glass, downing half of it immediately; it doesn't matter that I'm about to go to sleep, I have developed a tolerance for coffee, it doesn't keep me awake at night.

I don't have a separate bedroom, it's just a kitchen, a small bathroom, and one large living area that was full of ugly conformist furniture until I traded it in at the local thrift shop for much cooler stuff. Now it's better.

My king size bed is old and made out of worn black wood, I also have a black wooden rocking chair, and a small black wooden dresser, but none of it actually matches, because that would be lame. My antique kitchen table doubles as my desk, and I have a very full bookcase and a vintage record player. The only stuff that's new are the appliances that came with the kitchen, plus my mattress and bedding. This is all I really need. Most people simply own too much stuff.

Zipping open my backpack I remove the bouquet of tootsie roll pops that Ike gave me earlier today. I carry them over to my bed, and sit down on the floor. I push my comforter out of the way, and slide my hand under the bed, searching for a large round hat box and pulling it out.

I take off the top, and pick up the thick hand woven black scarf that used to belong to Henrietta. I bury my face in it for a moment remembering the first day that we met. It was right before my fifth birthday, and I was sitting alone in the graveyard during a snowstorm, begging for death to find me, but Henrietta found me instead. She saved me.

Suddenly recalling my dream, I reach under my bed again, but I can't find what I'm searching for at first, so I turn on my old bedside lamp for additional light.

Laying on my stomach, I peek beneath my bed. What I'm looking for is right there, I just need to reach back a little more and retrieve it, so I do. I pull the old worn body pillow out and hug it tightly.

"Terri," I mumble and smile down at the face of Terrance from the old Terrance and Phillip comedy show.

"He kind of looks like Ike," I realize for the first time, and hug the body pillow a little tighter.

Still hugging Terri in one arm, I return my attention to my special box, I use my free hand to root around, pushing aside my gun, and my old switchblade, until I find the small envelop on the bottom of the box. I pull it out, open it, and retrieve the single photo inside.

The woman in the picture has long black hair, and looks exactly like me, except for two differences. Her eyes are a lighter color than mine, and her hair is naturally black, whereas mine is actually the color of honey underneath all this dye.

As it always does, looking at my mother fills my heart with pain, but I never want to forget her, so I keep the picture and look at it regularly. The picture and the pillow, it's all that I have left of her, and the pillow was stolen from me once, forcing me to steal it back. Mother was taken from me too, but unlike the pillow, I cannot steal mother back, I can only visit her grave now.

As my eyes start to tear up, I think of Ike and remember the reason I brought out my treasure box. I slide the picture back into the envelop and place it back in the box. I wrap Ike's bouquet in Henrietta's scarf, and lay it carefully on top of everything else in the box, before replacing the top, and shoving it back under the bed.

My phone starts to buzz, so I retrieve it from the pocket of my shorts, and when I notice it's Ike calling, I answer immediately.

"I miss you," is the first thing out of his mouth, which makes me smile, since I also miss him.

I don't tell him that though.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one to call, you?"

"I couldn't wait, are you home yet?"

"Yeah, I just got in."

"So you live pretty close?"

"Yeah," I whisper sleepily. "Really close?"

I decide to keep Terri with me tonight, so I get up from the floor, and I crawl into bed with Terri at my side, and the phone to my ear.

"You sound sleepy," Ike says with a yawn.

"I am."

"Well, then I'll let you go, I just called to tell you that tomorrow we'll meet at the Skate Park, you know the one we went to last week. Oh, unless you want me to come to your house and pick you up." Ike says sneakily.

"No, that's fine, I'll meet you there, what time?"

"Sometime in the morning. I'll text you a time. It's going to be hot again, so wear shorts, and bring your swimtrunks too. We'll probably end up swimming."

"Okay,"

"Goodnight Firkle, sweet dreams," Ike says with a sigh.

"Goodnight," I respond, before hanging up.

I'm too tired to get up and wash my face, so brushing my teeth can wait until tomorrow. These are the teeth that Ike's tongue played across, and although I cannot taste him, I only taste coffee, I imagine I can still feel his lips upon mine. I close my eyes, and fall asleep remembering Ike's kiss.

***Ike's POV******************

"Ike, pass your brother the milk." My mother commands from across the breakfast table.

I roll my eyes, and slide the milk to Kyle, who could reach the milk himself if he was sitting in his normal seat, right next to mine, instead of at the other end of the table trying to avoid me.

Kyle glares at me pointedly, before picking up the carton and pouring it over his cereal. I briefly consider making a smart ass remark about hickeys and underpants, but decide against it when I remember that Kyle covered my ass last night, by not telling my parents that I was out past my curfew. I got lucky, because my parents went to bed early last night, so they have no idea that I made it home so late.

Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, I pull it out, keeping it hidden under the table as I read my incoming text, because my mom doesn't allow cell phones at the table.

_**'What Time?'** _

I snicker, because this is pretty much the extent of my text conversations from Firkle.

I covertly type out a reply.

_**'Good morning, Angel! I'll meet you outside the locker room in one hour. Don't forget your swimtrunks.'** _

After sending the message, I am about to put my phone back in my pocket when Kyle notices what I'm up to.

"MOM, Ike's texting at the table!" Kyle rats me out, asshole!

"Ike, we've talked about this!" My mom complains, and my father peeks over his newspaper to give me a chastising look. Why it's okay for him to read the paper, but not okay for me to text is something I often wonder about, but I would never dare to ask.

"Sorry, mom," I apologize, and shove a piece of toast in my face, wanting to hurry up and get finished with breakfast, and out of the house for the day.

***Firkle's POV*******

I did it again. Ike said an hour, so I rushed to make it here in one hour, but I've been waiting here, at the rec center for 20 minutes.

At least this time I remembered to bring a book to read. The book is called 'The Outsiders.' It isn't something that I would normally choose to read, but it was forced on me by my summer school teacher. That's right I said summer school!

I screwed up in my literature class, which is pretty embarrassing considering I love to read.

I would have easily passed the class if I had taken it seriously, but I chose to be a smart ass. The teacher gave us an assigned reading list, and we were told to pick two books from the list to write two reports on over the semester. The reading list was bad, a bunch of crap that was more suited for 6th graders, so instead of reading books from the lame assigned reading list, and doing my reports, I chose two classics that were not on the list, and did my reports on them instead.

In my defense, my teacher was kind of an asshole. Both reports were returned with an A grade, with a note that read: 'Not what was assigned, but still excellent work!'

In the end the bastard failed me, and when I confronted him, he told me that since I chose not to do the assigned work he couldn't pass me, so now I'm making up the class over the summer and reading from the assigned reading list. Pathetic!

It was Ike who picked two books from the list for me to read. The first one is of course 'The Outsiders', and for the other he chose 'The Little Prince' which pissed me off at first, since it is literally a child's book, and I thought he was teasing me, until he promised me that wasn't the case.

"Hey," I look up from my book when I hear Ike's voice. He walks towards me, wearing black board shorts and a clean light blue T-shirt. His stuffed backpack is hung over his shoulder, and he holds his skateboard in one hand. As always he looks calm and cool, he's not even sweaty from rushing over here in the Summer heat, and he doesn't seem to be worried that I might be upset about waiting, which I sort of am. I slide my book into the pocket of my backpack and stand up.

"Wow, you look great, Firkle, this look really suits you. Did you remember your swimtrunks for later?"

I nod and point to my backpack. I'm dressed in black cargo shorts, and a sleeveless white cotton T-shirt, one of the outfits that Ike picked out when we went shopping. I wanted to wear jeans, since my knee is covered in a big ugly bandage, but Ike told me to wear shorts, so I did that. In my backpack I have two pairs of swimtrunks and two more shirts, because I couldn't decide which to bring.

"Sorry for being late again," he says with a big grin, and grabs a hold of my hand to drag me into the locker room. The moment we're inside he sits his skateboard and backpack down, and looks around to confirm we're alone.

"I didn't notice." I lie, and place my backpack next to his, and than he grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me back against the side of the lockers, kissing me deeply.

My anger vanishes immediately as his warm tongue snakes between my lips, and I feel his thigh push between my legs to rub against me down below, making me feel both excited and uncomfortable. I like kissing Ike a lot, but I don't feel ready for this kind of stuff, especially in such a public place. So uncomfortable wins out over excited, and I place my hand on Ike's chest and gently push him away.

"Sorry, I got a little carried away, but I missed you so much," he sighs, and continues to stare at my face, until we realize that we're no longer alone.

Ike's friend, Filmore Anderson is standing there staring at us with an odd look on his face, and a second later Ryan Ellis walks in behind him.

"Hey Filmore, Ryan," Ike nods their way, and he seems uncomfortable, but he tries to hide it by bending down to unzip his backpack, and start pulling things out.

"Hey man," Filmore answers back, and Ryan nods.

Ryan used to be a vamp kid, and than he was a jock, and now he's into skateboarding. Filmore has pretty much always followed Ike around, and he was into whatever Ike was into. It's the first time, since Ike and I starting hanging out, that we've run into Filmore, and the awkwardness in the room feels pretty heavy.

Filmore opens a locker and pops his stuff inside, and Ryan does the same. Ike sits down on the bench, and continues to rummage though his backpack, but instead of fading the uncomfortable aura seems to grow.

"We'll see you on the course," Ryan calls out as he heads out of the locker room followed by Filmore who remains silent, but tosses Ike an odd sort of annoyed look, on his way out the door. Like he's really pissed off, but trying to hide it for some reason.

Ike looks up when they leave and gives me a smile, and I want to ask what that was all about, but I don't, because I suspect that I already know. Filmore caught Ike kissing the weird Goth kid, and he doesn't approve of his best friend dating me.

"So I packed this for you to sit on, since last time you fell asleep on the grass." Ike holds out a small blue picnic blanket, "but I won't skate very long this time, because I don't want you to get bored of hanging out with me."

"I brought a book to read this time." I pull out my book and show it to him, before sliding my backpack into a locker.

"You're reading this one after all. That makes me kind of happy." Ike zips up his backpack and shoves it in the locker with mine, and after I close the locker and pull out the key he picks up his skateboard, and we head out of the locker room.

Ike leads me to the vending machine, where we stock up on water and snacks, before heading outside, but I notice that he's quieter than normal, and I feel my insecurities starting to call out in my head. This time however I decide to ignore them, because I feel more confident in whatever this relationship is.

But now that I think about it, what exactly is this relationship? Ike hasn't exactly asked me to go steady...

The moment that I ask myself that question is the moment that I'm certain... I want to be Ike Broflovski's boyfriend, but how do I go about making that happen...?

***The end of Chapter 4**************

**See you in Chapter 5.**

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy this new chapter and want the story to be updated faster, please leave feedback and let me know that you are interested. I'm trying to limit my fan fiction writing to a few hours a day, and I want to put my effort on the story where it will be most appreciated. I don't need you to shower me in praise, I just need to know that you are out there and that the story is working for you, so I know I'm heading in the right direction! I don't mind constructive criticism either, because that is helpful in letting me know when something isn't working.


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